


Give Me Love

by TotalFanGirl221B



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotalFanGirl221B/pseuds/TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas goes to speak to an old friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been very inactive recently due to health problems, still got 'em unfortunately, but I thought I'd post this just to let y'all know I will be trying to get things updated and hopefully soon get all of my fics completed! Sorry about the delay, hope you enjoy :)

_“Where have you been?”_

“Oh you know me, Martin. Where do you think I’ve been?”

_“Douglas! Tell me you haven’t, please.”_

“’Fraid so, dear.” Douglas sighed, removing the Captain’s hat from his head and staring at it solemnly. He ran it around in his hands a few times, taking it in for the first time since he had been handed it a month ago. It didn’t fit, though Carolyn had not been prepared to get a new one. Douglas had asked, almost begged, but even he didn’t want to rid himself of the ridiculous overly braided hat. “I’m here now though,” he managed to smile, turning to get a better view.

 _“I suppose,”_ Douglas heard a sigh, the hair on his neck standing slightly on edge. _“Better late than never, and I should have expected it from you.”_ That nervous laugh Douglas had grown so used to surrounded him, making him smile just that little bit more. He chuckled, wiping at his eyes.

                There was a silence that Douglas just did not know how to fill. He had had a plan of course, but now that he was here things were surreal and he had lost all of the words he had planned to say. He placed the hat beside him carefully, treating it with as much care as its former wearer had. Gently he smoothed his hand over the top, suddenly grinning at the memory of their little game of the travelling lemon. _“I know what you’re thinking about. Stop it.”_ Martin’s voice was still as indignant as he remembered, and it still made him laugh. This time though Martin laughed also, at himself both now and in the memory.

 _“How’s the job? How’s_ Herc?” Douglas heard Martin try and mimic his own moaning, and smiled slowly. He couldn’t stop that; Martin somehow had that effect on him. Fortunately he also had that effect on the Captain – yes, he refused to refer to him as anything else – and it was brilliant, as Arthur had put it for them both.

“I haven’t been,” He said quietly, almost as a whisper. “Carolyn stopped calling after the third day.”

 _“What? Douglas, why on earth-?”_ the air around the older man quietened, Martin finally having realised why Douglas could not go to work yet. _“No, Douglas. You can’t.”_ it was a soft breeze against his neck, his smile faltering as he hid his head. _“And you told me… You’ve been drinking.”_ The older man could hear disappointment, but he refused to accept it. He _had_ been drinking, Martin was right, because what else was there? After he had heard about it all, the crash, Martin’s second or third flight at Swiss airways. The details were still sketchy, but Douglas didn’t care. All he knew was there was a plane that had crashed, and the love of his life, MartiN Crieff, had been on board. _“Don’t do this to yourself, dear.”_ The wind hushed gently against his neck, becoming slightly harsher when the man refused to bring his head up.

“I should have been there.” He knew he couldn’t have been. He knew whatever he did it would not have been enough; still, he should have been with Martin in the worst moment of his life. When he needed Douglas the _most._ “I should have been there.” He repeated in a whisper as the wind dropped slowly. He felt hands on his shoulders, hands he knew were not really there but the comfort was definitely welcome. Martin lay his head gently atop of the other man’s. Douglas closed his eyes at the familiarity. Days he would sit in his living room waiting for the younger man to do this after a call from his daughter, which the younger man had always done. Now the comfort was not there, and so it had been replaced by something bitter but familiar. All that was left was the alcohol.

 _“I can hear your thoughts, idiot.”_ Douglas heard the younger man’s voice beside his ear, and he managed a chuckle. _“Stop this, Douglas. Stop doing this to yourself._ Please.” The younger man quietly begged. Douglas didn’t speak, thinking he should stop but not feeling that he had the strength any more to do so.

“Give me the strength. Give me…” his voice faded, realising this was a waste of time.

 _“You have the strength, dear. You_ always _have, that’s what I’ve always admired about you. I_ know _you can keep going.”_

“I don’t, Martin. I don’t.” he finally admitted, and Martin was silent.

                Suddenly, there were hands on his cheeks. His face was being pushed up, then, quickly, he felt the ghost of somebody’s lips brushing against his. Martin’s lips came closer, and Douglas pushed himself out more, despite knowing how mad this was. But he could feel Martin, he could feel his hands and his fingers moving and eventually finding their way through his own as they kissed, and suddenly this was the only thing that felt right in the world.

                _“You have the strength,”_ Martin whispered, letting himself go. _“You’ll see that you do, I promise.”_ Douglas sighed. _“Go to work. Go see Carolyn and Arthur, they miss you.”_

“They miss _you,_ ” the older man corrected wearily.

 _“I know, they’ve been here.”_ Douglas felt a sudden pang of guilt, since this had been his first visit since he had heard of the crash that his torn his world apart. _“Don’t.”_ the Captain spoke more sternly than he ever had. _“Don’t do it to yourself.”_ He sighed. _“They miss you as well, you’re their friend! Not just their pilot. Arthur really misses you.”_ Again there was another silence that neither of them liked. _“Everything will be fine, dear. I’ll always be here, anyway.”_

“You’re gone, Martin. Don’t speak like you’ve just moved to Switzerland, because that was hard enough. You are dead, you are not coming back.” he did not know why he was being so harsh, but he finally had to admit it. Martin Crieff was dead. Martin Crieff was _never_ coming back.

_“I know. I hate it, too. There’s nothing good here,”_

“Heaven?”

 _“Mhm.”_ Martin nodded.

“I don’t believe it.”

 _“Yes, you do.”_ The older man quirked an eyebrow. _“I’m not here, Douglas. Surely you knew that?”_ the gloomy look on Douglas’ face suggested he just didn’t want to admit that fact just yet. _“I’m from your mind – you must believe in something.”_

                “What do I do?” Douglas finally asked, ready to leave after this ridiculous made up heart to heart. “What am I supposed to do now?”

 _“What you always do; you carry on.”_ The breeze caressed Douglas’ shoulders and neck, soothing him. _“You get on at work, you stop your drinking,”_ the younger man added sternly. _“And you get on with your life.”_

“I suppose,” Douglas considered with great thought, listening to this ghost that was simply his conscience. Still, he could dream for a little while longer. “One thing, dear.”

_“Anything.”_

“Save me a seat up there in Heaven.” He thought he saw Martin’s smile, however impossible.

 _“Of course, Douglas.”_ The older man lifted himself up, feeling the breeze hit him harder as a goodbye. _“As long as you don’t forget me,”_ Douglas heard the whisper of anxiety.

“Never. I never will, dear. See you tomorrow,” the pair smiled.

 

The wind soon dropped, Douglas smiling softly as he wiped the tears away and drove home.


End file.
